Monthly Archives: February 2013

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Well Oscar night is usually one of my favorites of the year (and maybe would be THE favorite if the Oscars weren’t one of the most drawn out/unnecessarily long awards ceremonies).

Also, I’m passing the time leading up to the show by moving to New York City (I’m literally writing this on my phone from the train). While it may cut into some of my production here, I’m pretty thrilled about my new position as a Product Marketing Manager at an awesome company called Krossover (www.Krossover.com), located right in the heart of Midtown Manhattan.

This job change and subsequent move all came about very quickly (as more than a few of my friends and family members have pointed out to me), but it looks like getting laid off from my previous company couldn’t have turned out any better.

Anyway, I don’t feel like writing too much here, but you should check out the company and my latest post (and keep an eye out for more) on our company blog: http://buff.ly/YPwIl6, which features my top ten sports movies and a few predictions for tonight.

Like I said, unfortunately posts will probably begin to trail off here as I’m familiar with the way working at a startup has the tendency to overtake many areas of like (in particular former leisure activities). However, what more could I have asked for in a new job than to be responsible for writing blog posts and tracking their effecton our social media presence? (Pretty much exactly what I was doing for free when unemployed…).

While you’re at it, if you’d like to make an aspiring marketer very happy, check out and follow us on Twitter @Krossovr and Facebook!

I spent a good portion of my week in San Francisco exploring various neighborhoods of the city and often finding a coffee shop in the area to hang out at for a few hours.

Several of these coffee shops either offered good enough coffee, food, or people watching to warrant return visits. In particular, two spots- Velo Rouge Café and The Blue Danube Coffee Shop on Clement became go-tos for the week.

After a pleasant, but tiring, bike ride through golden gate park on my first day of exploring, my buddy and host recommended that I check out Velo Rouge (it turns out Velo is a term for “Bike” in French) for lunch and a little work. The afternoon turned out even better than could have been expected, as I was invited to enjoy my lunch in the company of a very friendly (and attractive) young lawyer who happened to work at the nearby USF Law school and who recommended the cool Kabuki theater.

On the same day, while doing some good writing, I managed to piss off the management not just once, but several times. To start, I attempted to plug my dying laptop into a surge protector hanging from the ceiling. It did seem a little strange, but given that a nearby TV was also plugged in there, I went for it. Not even 30 minutes later, I was reprimanded for putting my legs on the glass table in front of me. In my defense, my feet weren’t actually on the table, but rather just the bottoms of my pant legs. However, as they explained to me “people eat off of that,” (something I was well aware of, as I had just eaten off of it myself). My final offense was bringing in a bag of outside food, although I never planned to actually eat any of my leftovers that I was carrying around before heading home. Ironically, when back there the next day, I sat next to the same seat I had been at the day before (with the tempting glass table) and the girl seated there pulled the same move, only to be scolded in exactly the same way. Luckily I happened to be there to warn her not to plug in any cords above her head.

The Blue Danube was located just a few streets over on Clement street (where Eats and Q Brunchwere also located). We stopped in there on Saturday morning for a late breakfast. Everyone else in my party went with a classic egg and cheese sandwich on one of their delicious looking bagels; however, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a tuna sandwich on a bagel, a favorite combo of mine.

While seated on an interesting mixture of chairs, couches, and pillow-covered benches, we noticed a “Blue Danube journal” sitting on the table in front of us. Upon opening it, we discovered not your typical traveler’s messages-“I love the Blue Danube, I stop here whenever I come to visit,” but rather much more intimate notes that you might find in someone’s actual personal journal or better yet a diary. I kid you not; there were descriptions of the sadness associated with unrequited live, the loneliness of long distance relationships, and even accounts of more serious signs of depression and hopelessness. I certainly couldn’t see myself writing about such personal details of my own life in a notebook that would be on display for any future patrons; however, given my interest in other people, I could definitely have spent longer than I did sitting there to read more of the entries.

Café Trieste was located in the Little Italy district of the city, just past Chinatown and on the way to the Presidio. A friend of mine, and a lover of SF, told me that the one place I needed to go was Cafe Trieste and the one thing I had to get (and something he tries to get on each and every trip out there) is a Latte. Unfortunately, I stay away from milk in my coffee. However, I think the iced coffee was certainly worth the trip over there. Additionally, when I started chatting with the very friendly owner (it’s debatable whether he may have been interested in me other than just as a customer), he gave me some recommendations for other parts of the city to check out and also added a free shot of espresso to my coffee. This location was slightly less amenable to working while “plugged in,” (I couldn’t find any outlets, not even off-limits ones) but was certainly a nice change of scenery from my other two more-frequented locations.

Additionally, after my umpteenth coffee of the trip (this trip certainly got me back on a coffee kick), I realized that I wasn’t very far from In ‘N Out Burger and decided that it would be the best day to make that trip, given that it was certainly something I wanted to grab while out there.

I don’t think anyone needs an entire blog post on In N Out, if you’ve never been, or even less likely, never heard of it, you won’t have any trouble finding countless reviews of the burgers or all of the cool “secret” orders you can get there. Personally, I think they’re good for what they are, a better quality fast food burger, but I get slightly frustrated with self-righteous Golden staters who claim them to be god’s gift to the earth.

One of my favorite breakfast spots/greasy spoons ever has to still be New Haven’s late Yankee Doodle (a Yale landmark, which the University sadly couldn’t save). Whenever I move to a new city (or sometimes even when I visit one), a part of me is still looking for its counterpart. When I arrived at Art’s in the heart of San Francisco’s Sunset district, I thought I could have at long last found it.

From first glance, Art’s had the right level of greasiness, a single row of counter-top seats, a large-open griddle, and it came at the recommendation of a fellow Elm City transplant and former Doodle lover.

Unfortunately, Art’s didn’t quite live up to my Doodle-esque expectations, but I did have an enjoyable (and maybe more importantly) reasonably priced breakfast. After the fact, my friend told me that I should have ordered something called a “hash-brown sandwich,” which I’m pretty certain I saw someone nearby eating, but didn’t know what I was looking at the time.

I did get some of the interestingly shaped “potato-stix” type hashbrowns, the same patty that I now know is often used to make a delicious sounding sandwich. However, the corned beef hash I ordered left a little something to be desired (it consisted more of potatoes than much actual corned beef.)

For a quick, cheap breakfast, Art’s was perfect and held me over for my exploration of Dolore’s Park when I headed to the Mission after filling up.

On an interesting (and somewhat funny side-note, at least to me). Art’s is owned and operated by a Korean family, who serve not only traditional breakfast fare (eggs and bacon etc.), but also Ramen. I never would have know this, had I not noticed the Asian gentleman seated next to me get served a steaming hot bowl of noodle-filled soup with his coffee. I don’t know whether this would be my idea of the ideal meal at 11am on a weekday, but hey, I probably shouldn’t knock it until I’ve tried it.

As much as I love sandwiches, I didn’t seek out too many sub shops or delis while in San Francisco, as there were plenty of other cuisines to try.

However, I think it speaks for itself that I made three trips, for four sandwiches, to the Arguello Market and Café. Even though it was located just around the corner from where I was staying, the pure volume of visits should be enough to sing my praises for their sandwiches

On my first two trips, I went for a classic and one of my all-time favorites- chicken salad. However, I had to do this against the recommendation of the “sandwich artist” to try their renowned hot rotisserie chicken or turkey.

The one staple throughout all of my sandwiches was the bread. Each time, I went with a delicious, thick, and soft French sourdough loaf. However, when I make it back there, I may try something called a “dutch crunch” roll (which I saw several patrons order on each of my visits). The chicken salad included a great balance of solid chunks of white meat chicken, mayo, and a nice addition of chopped green and red peppers. As usual, I kept my chicken salad pretty simple, just adding lettuce, onion, and a little vinegar (interestingly, their default was red wine vinegar as opposed to balsamic, but added essentially the same taste).

My last trip came on my way to catching my flight home to Boston. Given that I hate buying food at airports or on airplanes, I doubled up my order.

To start, I went with a bacon and egg sandwich on a delicious and buttery warm croissant. For lunch, I finally tried the highly touted hot rotisserie turkey. For toppings, I stayed away from the recommended “everything,” and just went with some bacon, lettuce, tomato, and mayo. Unfortunately, my only complaint was entirely my fault, I waited to eat the sandwich until I got to the airport and by that time it had already cooled off. Regardless, the meat was delicious, along with the bread and toppings as usual.

Next time I’m in the Richmond, I’ll certainly need to try one fresh, while it is still warm.

On my second breakfast trip to Clement Street, my crew passed by Q Brunch, deciding that it was a little much for what they were looking for at the time (really just bagels and coffee). However, I looked over the menu and decided it was worth a visit.

Luckily on Sunday, my breakfast companion, who was in town to celebrate her birthday (a celebration she recounted as one of her best ever) was down to try it. Unlike some other birthday brunchers, who were downing Mimosa’s and Bloody Mary’s at 10am, we were past celebrating and onto recovering by that point.

After my less than stellar hash at Art’s, I was hesitant to try it at Q, but I wanted to give hash on the West Coast a second chance. I’m certainly glad that I did.

Rather than the hash that tasted more like extra salty and crispy potato strings the last time, what I was served instead contained a plentiful helping of large chunks of well-cooked corned beef. Also, the poached eggs were perfectly cooked (actually the first time my breakfast date had ever actually had poached eggs).

As usual, the breakfast potatoes weren’t really distinguishable from the hash; however, they mixed in nicely enough. Even though the hash wasn’t as crispy as I’ve come to enjoy, the meat was great and the potatoes were what I’ve gotten used to. Overall, I’d definitely give Q Brunch another go around.

A lot of things in this world come down to what version of the “Truth,” one accepts. When it comes to whether or not one believes the reports of a detained individual, one who has potentially been starved, sleep-deprived, or even tortured, the meaning of “Truth,” could be the difference between life or death, between stopping a terrorist attack or missing crucial intel that leads to the death of innocent civilians.

Film awards season is one of my favorite times of the year. I don’t particularly care for watching the actual ceremonies themselves, but the time between the holidays and early spring time usually brings with it plenty of compelling features to draw me to theaters. This year has been no exception.

Ever since I saw the first trailer for it, I’d been looking forward to checking out Kathryn Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty, starring Jessica Chastain (known for Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life, and more recently The Help) and Kyle Chandler (of the Television Series, Friday Night Lights, one of my guilty pleasures). Given the rave reviews I’d come across, both from professionals and friends alike, not to mention the award nods Bigelow had received both for the film and her direction, it was only a matter of time before I made it to check this one out.

The story follows Chastain, cast as a CIA agent, who we are told was recruited directly out of high school to work for the agency, and has spent her entire (albeit short) career hunting Osama Bin Laden. From early on, we are led to look past Chastain’s beauty and delicate natue and see her as a “hardened killer.” We learn this by way of the description provided by her partner, Dan, played by the Aussie Jason Clarke (though, interestingly, with no discernable accent). Furthermore, Chastain gives off some of this same no bull-shit vibe in a few of her own quotes. When one of Clarke’s prisoners pleads with her for help, she calmly explains, “you can help yourself by being truthful.” By the time Chastain teams up with Clarke, he is mostly on his way out. He returns to DC to take a much needed respite from the intense line of work he has been deeply involved in for some time. Also, despite his warning, Chastain continues with the tactics of hard questioning, and even orchestrating torture of her own, including beatings and water boarding, though she often directs others to carry out the measures.

Later on, while attending a meeting to discuss a possible attack on the safehouse where Chastain believes Bin Laden is hiding, she answers the Director’s (played by James Gandolofini) question of who “this girl is,” with a curt, “I’m the motherfucker that found this place.” This response comes not only as a shock to Gandolfini, but also much to the dismay of her fellow less-senior team members. This quote serves not just to continue to build the reputation of her toughness, but also highlights one of the underlying themes of the film, a commentary on the place of women in the military, in particular in the intense and gritty places like detainee camps in Abu Gharib, Guantonomo bay, and interrogations that range from hardball questioning and even torture.

The film follows an interesting timeline, going back and forth between Chastain’s desparate chase for Bin Laden and chronicling many of the post 9/11 terrorist attacks, including those that killed innocent citizens in London, Pakistan, and elsewhere. After Chastain loses one of her only other female colleagues on the front lines (when a breached security measure leads to a car bombing by supposed Jordanian friendlies within the confines of foreign-based US military and intelligence camp), she turns up the intensity of her search, only to be pulled out when she becomes the target of an attack herself, while driving out of her compound one morning.

With the sour taste left in the mouth of the agency after the loss of several lives in the Jordanian attack, they didn’t want to take any second chances with Chastain and decided to pull her off of the front lines. Much to her dismay, Chastain was forced to relinquish her lead on the safe house she discovered and where she believed Bin Laden could be found. However, even from her removed position, Chastain does her best to stay on top of her superiors. She begins to note the number of days that have passed since the discovery of the presumed whereabouts of Bin Laden in bright red marker on the glass door to her supervisor’s office. As this number grows, so too does the pressure on the agency to do something. This portion of the film feels very reminiscent of another of this award’s season’s top picks, Argo, where a good portion of time is devoted to getting permission for a risky mission. One of the major challenges that both Chastain and her superiors face, is the hesitation of the “decision-makers” to pull the trigger on any attack that isn’t grounded in “certainty.” In another meeting of the minds, Gandolfini againgoes around the table, asking each member on the team what ‘probability’ they’d assign to the chance that Bin Laden is actually hiding out there. When it gets to Maya (Chastain), she touches on their juxtaposing fear of, but also requirement for, certainty in saying, “I know certainty freaks you guys out, but it’s a 100%.” It is her confidence that ultimately pushes them over the edge and to green light the mission.

This same confidence, not only launches the mission, but also instills a similar confidence in the members of Navy Seal team 6, who will be the actual ones to carry out the attack. Chris Pratt (notably of Parks and Recreations), plays one of these seals. Even after Chastain has expressed her dislike for the oft lack of professionalism among their team, with their “dip and Velcro and all (their) gear bullshit,” but Pratt feels inspired by her same confidence- “I’ll tell you buddy, if her confidence is the one thing that’s keeping me from getting ass-raped in a Pakistani prison I’m gonna be honest with you bro. I’m cool with it.”

Other than the pace of getting a risky mission approved, the feel of Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty, more closely resembles other feature war films from recent years, such as Black Hawk Down and The Hurt Locker. Interestingly, the key “mission,” involves the use of previously non battle-tested radar-avoiding helicopters and one of the only SNAFU’s in all of the missions, is one of these choppers getting too close to a building and going down after clipping a blade, much like in the 2001 film starring Josh Hartnett and Ewan McGregor. Not surprisingly, Zero Dark Thirty handles the difficult topic film dealing with the sensitive topic of detainee camps and torture as The Hurt Locker, led by a stellar performance from Jeremy Renner, does with the intense work involved in dismantling IEDs, as Bigelow was at the helm of both films.

The running theme of the film surrounding the role of women in the military, in particular, in areas as sensitive as interrogations, anti-terrorism, and torture comes to a fitting conclusion along with the eventual capture and killing of Bin Laden. After the return of Seal Team 6, while the team members are dumping and sorting their “loot,” from the raid, their commander, Admiral Bill McCraven, played by Christopher Stanley (of Mad Men) stands and waits by the body bag with an open phone line to some high-ranking official (possibly the President). He calls in Chastain to perform the final task, the one she has been waiting for since being recruited out of high school to hunt down Bin Laden. When she finally unzips the back and pulls back the cover to reveal the long grey beard and hated face she hoped to see, she simply nods to Stanley and he relays the message that the “girl,” has positively ID’d the target.

All in all, Zero Dark Thirty is led by standout performances from Chastain, Chandler, and Clarke. Given my preference for character-driven narratives, I would have liked to learn a little more about some of their personal lives. However, given the skill of Bigelow, it’s possible that this lack of character depth was intentional and meant to highlight the lack of personal lives that these individuals had outside of their mission to capture Bin Laden and help prevent the senseless further loss of lives.

It’d be quite the task to stack this intense film up against the others I’ve seen this season, but it is certainly in good company.

When I asked my friend (and San Francisco host for the week) where to get a sandwich, he claimed without hesitation that ‘Yellow Submarine,’ in the Inner Sunset, was not only the best sub he’d had in San Francisco, but the best sub he’d ever had period.

His only other sub-par recommendation came on Art’s Cafe, but since I knew that this was based on his being partial to a good value and that he held on to the same desperate hope as I did that we may finally have found a Yankee Doodle competitor, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

By about 11:00am, I had to decide whether to go for breakfast or lunch on my last full day of exploring SF, and given that I really only wanted out of breakfast was steak and eggs, I figured I could go without the eggs.

That decision made my sandwich choice for me, steak and cheese; however, I still liked their very limited menu(only basic sandwiches). Interestingly, for the latter portion of my time spent living in Philadelphia, I gave up the “cheese,” part of the Philly-famous cheesesteaks. However, whenever I would find myself at one of the two classics in the city of Brotherly Love (Pats or Geno’s) or my favorite, Jims on South Street (usually when hosting friends or family), I’d still grab a plain steak. However, I’ve recently gone back to adding some provolone back into my sandwich topping arsenal. Therefore, at the Yellow Submarine, I ordered what would be known as “One provolone wit’ “(meaning a steak and provolone sandwich topped with onions) back east.

After applying a healthy dose of ketchup, I took my first bite and couldn’t have been happier with my friend’s recommendation or my order choice. The steak was nicely shaved (not finely chopped like they do at Jim’s, but still great), the onions well-cooked, and the bread perfectly grilled.

My only slight improvement might be to cook the cheese a little longer. While it was warm, it didn’t quite melt to my liking. Like I said, I haven’t had a true Philly Cheesesteak in quite some time, but I’d be willing to bet that if these two were stacked up, they’d go down to the wire.

Back in Cambridge, my new favorite sub place has become Al’s (I frequent the Harvard Square location, but they’ve got a few throughout the city). When there, I mostly go for the award-winning chicken or tuna salad subs, served on Al’s unnecessarily large, but delicious, sub rolls. I’ve had a steak sub there once and it was very similar to the one from the Yellow Submarine. I’d have to call it a 50/50 toss up, perhaps with the sandwich meat and toppings going to Al’s and the bread going to YS, but all in all a great contest.

Even though the menu was limited, there were plenty of others I’d like to try and it will certainly make it on to my list for a repeat visit on my next trip back there (which will hopefully be sooner rather than later…)